


call me, maybe

by carissima



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Minor Injuries, Phone Sex, Toronto Maple Leafs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 15:03:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16065620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carissima/pseuds/carissima
Summary: “Oh.” Willy sounds a little guilty. “You’re tired.”“Well, yeah,” Zach huffs out a laugh. If he closes his eyes, perhaps he can pretend Willy’s here, in his space and pestering him like he always does, rather than an entire continent away, waiting for a stupid contract before he can come home to Toronto. “But I want to talk to you anyway.”





	call me, maybe

**Author's Note:**

> thank you e for the super quick beta!

Zach’s in a pretty shitty mood by the time he gets out of the medical room, desperately trying not to hobble but wincing with every step he takes anyway. The game’s over and they won, but it’s barely a consolation when the season hasn’t even started yet and he’s gonna miss some ice time already.

“Hey.” Mitch sees him first and comes towards him, an arm outstretched to wrap around his waist and help him get to his stall. “Everything okay?”

“Bone bruise,” Zach mutters, squeezing Mitch’s shoulder in thanks as he drops down to the bench and sighs. “Fucking sucks.”

“Totally,” Mitch frowns. “How long are you out for?”

“Few days,” Zach grumbles and strips off his shirt.

“Oh,” Mitch says, sounding surprised and then Zach feels a light punch connecting with his shoulder. “That’s nothing, dude. Don’t look so serious. I thought you were gonna say weeks. You’ll be all good to go for the season opener.”

JT appears next to Mitch and throws an arm around his shoulder, dragging him back a little away from Zach. “Ignore him,” JT says and ruffles Mitch’s hair with his free hand. Mitch squawks a little but none of them are surprised when Mitch leans into the touch just a little. Zach’s not sure he’s met anyone with such a deep and open need to be handled before. They’re all pretty indulgent with him, even JT and he’s only been around for a week. “We’ll miss you out there.”

“He’s not dead,” Mitch rolls his eyes and grins at Zach. “Just getting old, can’t handle a little preseason game now without getting knocked about.”

“Watch who you’re calling old,” JT warns him. “Don’t let Marleau hear you say that.”

“Patty loves me,” Mitch says, unconcerned. “Also, Patty didn’t get injured in a game against the Sabres. The fucking Sabres, Zach. Eichs wasn’t even playing.”

Zach doesn’t have a clue what Eichel playing has to do with him getting injured but watching JT drag Mitch away with a wry parting smile for Zach has improved his mood just a little. He takes a quick shower and gets dressed, relieved that the painkillers are kicking in. He feels almost dopey by the time he’s ready to leave the locker room.

“You need a hand, old man?” Mitch asks, slipping into Zach’s side without waiting for an answer and helping him to the door.

“I hate you,” Zach says cheerfully, leaning hard on Mitch and cackling just a little when Mitch’s expression turns to terror and he almost buckles under the weight. Then, he rights them both and turns his sunny smile back at Zach.

“Stronger than I look,” Mitch tells him, not for the first time, and pushes through the door. Zach’s taken by surprise when Mitch pauses unexpectedly and he almost falls flat on his face but there’s another set of hands righting him and Zach finds himself looking at a familiar face.

His heart skips a painful beat but then his dulled senses catch up to who he’s actually looking at.

“Hey, baby Nylander,” Mitch greets him. “Good game.”

“We lost,” Alex reminds him dryly.

“Because we’re awesome and we’re gonna kick everyone’s asses this year,” Mitch says with a little whoop that makes Zach grin. “You still played good, kid.”

“You’re a year older than me,” Alex says. “But thanks. You mind if I talk to Hyman for a minute?”

Mitch and Zach glance at each other, confusion clear on both their faces. Zach’s pretty sure he’s only spoken to Alex a few times when he’s been in Toronto visiting Willy.

“Uh, sure,” Mitch says slowly. He untangles himself from Zach and steps away, watching to make sure Zach doesn’t topple over or something.

Zach shoots him a careful smile and turns towards Alex, a quizzical look on his face.

“I’ll uh, help you to the bus,” Alex offers, holding out an arm. Zach takes it and together they slowly follow Mitch, who’s keeping his distance but he’s still within eyesight. Alex doesn’t say anything for a few minutes and Zach is getting more confused with every passing step, but he keeps his counsel and waits.

“Are you going to be okay?” Alex asks finally.

“Yeah,” Zach says and offers a polite smile. “Doctors say I’ll be back on the ice in a day or two.”

“That’s good,” Alex says, and Zach’s close enough to feel Alex relax a little next to him. “So uh. My brother called me just now. A few times, actually. Two voicemails and three texts.”

Zach’s step falters. He tries to catch himself but he gives up and just stops in the hallway, turning to face Alex. “How is he?” Zach asks. His voice is quieter than he means to be, but he’s vaguely worried his voice might do something stupid like wobble or something.

“Call him and ask him yourself,” Alex huffs, his face twisting in annoyance before it flattens out to an apologetic grin. “Sorry. He’s an asshole when he’s worried.”

Zach blinks at him. “Worried. About me?”

“Who else?” Alex rolls his eyes and grabs Zach’s arm again, forcing him to keep walking.

“Oh,” Zach says. He’s so confused. “Why didn’t he just call me?”

“He did,” Alex says dryly and nods his head towards Zach’s pocket. “Haven’t you checked your phone?”

Zach isn’t really used to feeling like an idiot but he definitely feels like one now. He slides his phone free and blinks at the number of messages he’s got, and okay, a few of them are from Willy. His last text is just a row of aggressive-looking question marks.

“I’ll text him when I’m on the bus,” Zach says faintly. There’s so many texts. “Sorry.”

Alex sighs and comes to a stop in front of Zach. There’s a funny look of determination and worry on his face, which is super weird because Zach really doesn’t know Alex all that well. “Look, Hyman,” he starts before he stops and runs his hand through his hair, an achingly familiar gesture that makes Zach’s belly twist a little. “My brother is an idiot, but he’s awake in the middle of the night back home, watching this game, and I don’t think it’s to check on his little brother’s progress.”

Zach’s about to protest, since he knows Willy spends a stupid amount of time looking up Alex’s stats and latest game reports, but Alex is still talking.

“And right now, he’s not feeling all that friendly towards the Leafs,” Alex murmurs. “So do me a favor. Call my brother, let him know you’re okay and put him out of his misery, okay?” Alex lifts his head and looks over at Mitch, who’s waiting by the doors for them. “He’s all yours,” he calls before he turns back to Zach with a bland stare. “Good luck,” he says ominously and then he’s off, heading back down the hallway in the opposite direction.

“Willy’s brother is weird,” Zach says to Mitch when he reaches him. “Nothing he said just now makes any sense.”

“It’s a Swedish thing,” Mitch says confidently. “Or maybe a Nylander thing. Willy’s pretty weird sometimes.”

“Yeah,” Zach agrees, his phone heavy in his pocket, waiting for his replies. Willy can be really fucking weird.

He lets Mitch help him onto the bus and then he takes up the whole backseat by himself, stretching out and claiming that he needs the space. Once everyone’s onboard, Zach takes out his phone and sends the same reply to everyone, that he’s fine, he’ll be out a few days and he’ll talk to them later.

He doesn’t send that reply to Willy. Instead, he scrolls through their message thread, finding the last one he’d sent before the game, asking if Willy was coming back anytime soon. There’s five messages, all asking if he’s okay and then demanding that Zach text him back, the second-to-last one demanding a phone call.

**Zach: on the bus, are you still awake?**

A few seconds later, Willy’s text appears.

**Willy: yes?? are you okay?!**

**Zach: bone bruise on my hip, out a few days at most**

Nothing comes through for a few minutes and Zach finds himself staring at his phone, willing Willy to start typing even though it’s got to be the middle of the night in Sweden.

**Willy: call me when you get home**

Zach frowns.

**Zach: go to bed, i’ll call you tomorrow?**

A reply comes immediately this time.

**Willy: call me when you get home!**

**Zach: okay**

Zach bites his lip and puts his phone down. It lights up a few more times with messages from his mom and Spencer, but nothing else from Willy. He closes his eyes and tries to get a little sleep.

*

Zach slides his key into the lock and turns it, never happier to feel his front door give way so he can go inside and crash. The pain meds are wearing off a little and he can’t take another one for another hour, so he busies himself with putting his stuff away and reheating some pasta leftovers from the fridge. He eats it in the kitchen, leaning against the counter while he debates whether to actually call Willy. Then he decides to call and let the phone ring twice, that way Willy will see the missed call when he wakes up and Zach won’t have to worry about waking him up.

Willy picks up on the first ring.

“Hey,” he says breathlessly. “Zach? Hey.”

“Hey,” Zach says, feeling stupid. “Hey. You’re up.”

“I told you to call,” Willy reminds him. He sounds a little tinny, a reminder that he’s not in Toronto where he should be. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I said I was,” Zach says gently. “I saw Alex. He said you were worried.”

Willy’s laugh is loud and bright through the phone and Zach suddenly misses him so fucking much. “I was, but you’re okay, right?”

“Yeah,” Zach murmurs. He rubs his hip absently and checks the time before he swallows his meds and carries the phone into his bedroom where he can lay down. “You didn’t have to wait up. I would have called later.”

“Oh.” Willy sounds a little guilty. “You’re tired.”

“Well, yeah,” Zach huffs out a laugh. If he closes his eyes, perhaps he can pretend Willy’s here, in his space and pestering him like he always does, rather than an entire continent away, waiting for a stupid contract before he can come home to Toronto. “But I want to talk to you anyway.”

“You do?” Willy asks, surprised.

Zach blinks his eyes open and looks up at the dark ceiling. He hasn’t turned on a light and he’s tempted to just get under the covers fully clothed and go to sleep, listening to Willy on the phone. “Of course I do,” he chides gently and kicks off his socks. Then he strips off his shirt and lays back down, one hand resting lightly on his belly, the other tucked underneath his head. “I miss you. The season starts soon and you’re not here with us.”

“I miss you too,” Willy says quietly, like they’re sharing secrets in the dark. “I hate not being there.”

Zach figures what the hell and shimmies out of his slacks too. He’s tired and aching a little and he really wants Willy to get on a plane right now. “Alex said to put you out of your misery.”

“He did?” Willy sounds amused.

“Your brother’s really weird, Willy,” Zach mumbles. “He said you don’t like the Leafs right now.”

There’s a long pause, long enough to make Zach’s heart thump loudly in his chest. “Not at this very moment, no,” Willy agrees quietly.

“Did you watch the game for Alex?” Zach asks. He’s not sure why, except something Alex said earlier doesn’t make any sense and Zach can’t stop his brain from trying to figure out what he meant.

“No,” Willy says. “Not for Alex.”

“Oh,” Zach says dumbly. His hand slides a little lower on his belly, the tips of his fingers dipping under the waistband of his boxers. The meds are kicking in again and Zach breathes a little easier.

“Zach?” Willy’s voice is lower. Deeper. Zach shivers just a little. “Are you in bed?”

Zach’s pulse jumps and his throat goes so fucking dry immediately. “Yeah.”

“Me too,” Willy confesses in a purr.

“Yeah?” Zach croaks. He slides his hand all the way into his boxers and wraps it around his dick. He’s half hard and really hoping he’s reading Willy right.

“You wanna FaceTime?” Willy asks.

“Yes,” Zach says, too quick. Too eager.

Except Willy’s face is flashing at him onscreen and he accepts the call, barely paying attention to how he looks in his little box, shirtless and flushed, because he’s too busy staring at Willy. Willy, who looks beautiful as he always does, his hair a mess and his face showing the strain of too little sleep. And yet he’s fucking beautiful.

“Hi,” Zach says softly. He’s still got a hand on his dick but Willy definitely can’t see that.

“Hi,” Willy says back with a soft laugh. He’s shirtless too.

“You look good,” Zach says without thinking.

Willy’s face lights up and he brings the phone closer to his face. “Yeah?”

“You know you do,” Zach grins.

He’s so busy staring at Willy’s face that it takes him a while to realise that neither of them are talking. Willy’s staring back at him and Zach thinks he should feel a little self-conscious about that but he doesn’t. Maybe it’s the meds. Maybe it’s because he misses Willy.

Then he hears the tiniest hitch of Willy’s breath and Zach freezes. “Will?”

“Sorry,” Willy says, not sounding very sorry at all.

“Willy,” Zach breathes.

Willy’s face goes a little slack and Zach’s dick grows in his hand. “Say it again,” Willy says. Or begs, really.

“Say what?” Zach asks, his heart pounding.

“My name,” Willy says and then he closes his eyes.

“Willy,” Zach murmurs, because it’s fucking obvious now that he’s not the only one of them with his hand on his dick. “Willy, pull the phone away. Let me see.”

“Yeah?” Willy asks, breathless now. He’s staring right at the screen, looking at Zach. “You wanna see what I’m doing?”

“Yes,” Zach hisses. His own hand is working himself over now, his head fucked at the thought that Willy might be jerking off to Zach.

Willy licks his lips and Zach whines just a little, enough that Willy hears him and apparently that’s enough to convince Willy to tilt his phone, slowly panning down his own body. Zach pants a little at the sight of Willy’s torso, and then he’s dipping lower but there’s no waistband in sight, no boxers or pyjama pants.

Just Willy’s dick, hard and leaking, Willy’s other hand wrapped around it in a mirror image of Zach’s own dick.

“Yeah?” Willy asks. His voice is gruff and Zach wants to fucking bite him.

“Yeah,” Zach pants and he sits up, taking a few minutes to set his phone in just the right position so Willy can see him too.

“Fuck,” Willy says slowly when he takes in the sight of Zach’s spread legs, his hand stroking his cock. “Fuck, wait. Don’t come yet.”

Zach huffs out a laugh. “I think you’re being too optimistic,” he says, because Willy’s jerking off to Zach and Zach’s about to lose his goddamn mind here.

“Don’t fucking come, Zach!” Willy yells, the picture going out of focus and moving too wildly for Zach to follow. After a few seconds, Willy comes into focus again, sitting just like Zach is, spread wide for Zach to see. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” Zach breathes. “Fuck, why the fuck are you in Sweden?”

“I don’t know,” Willy groans and strokes himself a little faster. “Fuck, Zach. You look so good.”

“You look better,” Zach tells him and rubs his thumb over his slit and letting out a broken moan. “You look amazing.”

“Been jerking off to you all summer,” Willy says out of nowhere, making Zach blink in surprise. “Everytime you called or texted.”

Zach has to take his hand off his dick or he’s gonna come right then and there. He takes a few deep breaths, dragging his gaze away from Willy for a moment before he looks back at his screen. Willy’s got his legs bent and Zach can see everything. “Cup your balls,” he says.

Willy grins at him and does as he asks, his head tilting back as he works himself over. “Like this?”

Zach nods. “Yeah, just like that,” he murmurs.

Turns out, Willy takes direction beautifully. Zach ignores his own cock as he tells Willy what to do, exhaling unsteadily when Willy comes, one hand stroking his dick and two slick fingers sliding into himself as he pulses out come onto his belly.

“Oh fuck,” Zach whines, unable to hold off any longer as he quickly strokes himself. He can see Willy watching him, holding the phone closer now because all he can see is half of Willy’s face taking up the whole screen.

“Yeah,” Willy encourages him. “Come on, Zach. Show me what you’ve got.”

Apparently that’s enough to tip him over and he comes all over his own fist, breathing harder than he did on the ice earlier. He feels like he’s had the wind knocked out of him and he falls back against the pillows, grabbing his phone and hauling it closer.

“Hi,” Willy says with a dumb, sated grin.

“Hi,” Zach murmurs, grinning back helplessly.

“You should get some sleep,” Willy says, like he’s not the one keeping Zach up and giving him a fucking awesome orgasm from four thousand miles away. “I’ll be there soon, yeah?”

Zach studies his face. “I miss you,” he repeats.

Willy flushes this time. “Get some sleep, Zach. Need you to be in the best condition of your life when I get back.”

Zach’s lips curve into a predatory smile. “Yeah?” he asks, tired as fuck but unwilling to hang up. “You got a workout in mind?”

“Yeah,” Willy agrees. “Just for you and me.”

“Sounds perfect,” Zach says around a yawn. He needs to clean up but he's too comfortable. “Come back now. I miss you.”

He hears Willy’s laugh because he’s closed his eyes already. “You said that already.”

“I mean it,” Zach mumbles, half-asleep. “Sign your fucking contract.”

“Working on it,” Willy promises, muffled by his phone being lost somewhere in his covers. “See you soon, babe.”

Zach sighs into his pillow, hugs it a little closer and falls fast asleep.


End file.
